


A Little Night Music

by blue_morning



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker, DeanCas Smol Things 2019, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fluff, Frogs, M/M, Vignette, nobody is getting any sleep, not even the cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 06:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20925653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_morning/pseuds/blue_morning
Summary: “What thefuckis that racket?” Dean sits up in bed so suddenly that Meredith, Cas’s cat, goes skittering off their bed and regroups at the door, giving Dean the evil eye before stalking out of the room and down the bunker’s hallway.Cas tilts his head and listens for a second. “Hyla versicolor. Eastern Gray Tree Frog.” He goes back to reading his book, absent-mindedly sliding his reading glasses up his nose.





	A Little Night Music

**Author's Note:**

> This is such a fun challenge to write for! And my fic is super smol this year, as I ran out of time.
> 
> Thanks to [Nicky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nickelmd/pseuds/nickelmd) for a speedy beta.
> 
> My back yard is a tree frog singles bar every spring, I figure if I can't sleep, then Dean doesn't get to either.

Dean’s dreaming. He’s moving through a jungle, hacking the underbrush in front of him with his favourite vampire machete from the Impala’s secret arsenal, moving as fast as he can through the clinging vines and thorny bushes to get away from something chasing him. Something dark and huge. Ratcheting up the fear is the sound of the jungle. Unseen creatures are hooting and trilling, a menacing soundtrack that beats against Dean’s ears, getting louder and louder, until the fabric of the dream rips and disperses. He wakes with a start. The noises are still there.

“What the _fuck_ is that racket?” Dean sits up in bed so suddenly that Meredith, Cas’s cat, goes skittering off their bed and regroups at the door, giving Dean the evil eye before stalking out of the room and down the bunker’s hallway.

Cas tilts his head and listens for a second. “_Hyla versicolor_. Eastern Gray Tree Frog.” He goes back to reading his book, absent-mindedly sliding his reading glasses up his nose.

“Frogs? Are you sure? That sounds too big to be frogs. Like maybe raccoons or mountain lions, or...werewolves.”

“There are no mountain lions in Kansas, Dean.”

Dean opens his mouth to ask about werewolves in Kansas, but remembers a hairy (in all senses of the word) weekend in Olathe a few years back and changes gears. 

“How are we even hearing them down here? It’s not like we can sleep with the windows open.”

“I imagine the sounds are coming through whatever air intake vents there are above ground.”

“Ugh, I hate this.” Dean grabs a pillow and mashes it down over his head. The frog calls are muffled, a bit, but there’s no way he’s getting back to sleep. “There’s nothing I can shoot to make it stop,” he says petulantly through a layer of memory foam.

“It’s their mating season. They need to mate and lay eggs while the spring water levels are still high, before the summer heat dries everything up. Female frogs assess the quality of a male through the nuances of his call. Male frogs decide whether or not to fight based on the sound of another male's call. Think of it like a giant frog singles bar outside the bunker.”

“I get it. It’s the circle of life. But do they have to be so fucking loud?” Dean moves the pillow from over his face to behind his head. He props himself up and looks over at Cas. It’s an appealing view. Messy hair and Clark Kent glasses, his face serious in his focus on the book. He’s fucking adorable. Dean starts to think that maybe not being able to sleep might be a feature, not a bug, of this whole frog situation. Dean reaches across under the covers and runs his toes down the side of Cas’s calf. He makes his voice sultry. “Didn’t know you were such a frog sex expert, Cas.”

Cas ignores him and makes a show of turning the page in his book, licking his finger and running it sensuously from the corner of the page down the paragraphs. The jerk. He knows exactly what he’s doing. 

“They’re merely fulfilling an evolutionary imperative, Dean. They’re propagating the species, passing along their DNA to the next generation.”

Dean rolls over and puts his lips close to Cas’s ear. “We could join them.” 

“I thought you had a better grasp of biology than that,” Cas says. “It’s impossible for us to continue the species.”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t have fun tryin'. I’ve got an evolutionary imperative for you right here in my boxers.” Dean smiles wickedly.

Cas tries to keep a straight face. He should be used to this by now. He _is_ used to this. Sighing theatrically, he marks his page in the book and reaches over to put it on his night stand. Before he can even roll all the way back over, Dean is on him, kissing him deeply and pushing him into the pillows.

Outside the door, Meredith sits for a minute and watches the blankets move in very curious ways before losing interest and setting off down the hallway. She’s going to find out what’s making all that noise and eat it.


End file.
